


i don’t have a lot to give

by fiveameyes



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gift Giving, Multi, Polyamory, but it was too soft to stay in the drafts forever, i wrote this a year ago and never posted, they are all together but i tagged the individual ships that have themes in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveameyes/pseuds/fiveameyes
Summary: but i would give you everything.-christmastime. gift giving.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Ben Hanscom/Eddie Kaspbrak/Beverly Marsh/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Eddie Kaspbrak, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	i don’t have a lot to give

**Author's Note:**

> title and description from “two queens in a king sized bed” by girl in red
> 
> i wrote this in november of last year but i didn’t get around to posting it before christmas. i know this fandom is basically dead by now but i wanted to get it out into the world anyway!! i’m quite proud of her.

This time last year, the Losers Club was falling in love. They were around fifteen, and figured out, very slowly, that shared trauma and a widespread distaste for everything ‘normal' was the perfect formula for an epic love story.

Now, Christmas time again, they have a little more figured out. The feelings they had for one another are no longer suppressed by everything in them that tells them they're wrong; no longer hidden in the shadows of their shame. 

They gather in their clubhouse to exchange gifts. Since it was built, years earlier, Ben has made a few renovations--drywood floors, a couch, and even a card table and some desk chairs so they all have somewhere to sit. The newest renovation is pointed out by Beverly, as they all climb down the ladder for the millionth time. 

"These pillars are new," she says. Ben smiles. 

"Yeah, I re-stabilized the whole thing so it'll stop falling apart. That's part of my Christmas gift to you guys." 

Bev smiles at him fondly, and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. The two collapse on the couch, heaving giant bags with everyone's gifts in them. Mike climbs in after them, holding a similarly large bag, which he puts to the side before sitting down beside Ben. 

Everyone files in in relative silence, quiet chatter amongst each other as they try to figure out what gifts they got one another. Richie and Eddie take the hammock (yes, it's still there) as always, while Bill and Stan sit on the chairs next to the couch. 

It's not too cold today, and there's no snow, so none of them are particularly freezing, but everyone still gets an earful from Eddie about their health. 

"You guys are insane! Every one of you is wearing a short sleeved t-shirt, you're all gonna get hypothermia! Do you have any idea how many problems you could cause from being so underdressed in the cold—in fact, Merry Christmas, idiots." 

He grabs the bag he heaved in and pulls out pair after pair of mittens, handing them off to the respective Losers they were made for. A sweet lavender color for Bev, black for Richie, dark blue and light blue for Bill and Stan, respectively. Ben is handed a pair of green ones, and Mike a pair of red ones. They all chuckle at the unceremonious way he gave them their gifts, but it couldn't be more Eddie, and they love it. 

"Eds, did you knit these?" Bev asks, awestruck, slipping a mitten on her hand. Eddie bristles and mumbles a small "yes." Everyone displays their surprise, thanking him and complimenting his handiwork. He pretends to still be annoyed when they all take the mittens off to free their hands, but the flush on his cheek isn't a result of the cold. 

"Thank you, Eddie, these are great. Who's next?" Bill says. Ben, looking akin to an excited puppy, raises his hand. 

"So, like I told Bev, part of the gift was that the clubhouse isn't gonna fall apart anymore-" he's interrupted by a few claps and cheers. "-but there's more." 

He reaches into his bag--with a cat in a Santa hat on the front--and pulls out a few much smaller gift bags, one by one. He checks the tag and hands the first one to Stan.

"Hold on, I want you all to open them at the same time," Ben says, still distributing the gifts. Stan waits patiently, until everyone is holding a tiny bag in their hands, and Ben gives them the okay. 

They reach into their bags and gasp, almost simultaneously. 

"Oh my god, did you make this?" Bill asks, at the same time Richie says "hell yeah!" and Mike says "it's so cute!" 

They've all been given small wooden carvings, that Ben himself did in fact make. Each one is unique to the person receiving it, and they all have their initials carved somewhere in the figure. Bill's is a small paintbrush. Stan is holding a little bird, which he quickly identifies as a sparrow, with a smile. Eddie was given a wooden car, complete with details on the wheels. Mike has a sheep, and he won't stop giggling at how adorable it is. Bev, holding a small dress form, almost tears up. 

"Wait, Bev, what's yours?" Richie says, grabbing for it. She lets him hold it, and explains the figure. 

"It's a dress form. It's the thing I use to display the clothes I've made, kind of like a mannequin." 

Richie hands it back to her, and says "sweet." Eddie nudges his arm. 

"What's yours, Rich?" He asks, and Ben sighs. Just as he says, "I can't believe I did it, but I couldn't think of anything else," Richie holds up a little hand made of wood, sticking up its middle finger. 

Everyone laughs and compliments Ben on the choice. Bill moves to kiss Ben on the cheek, and then Stan follows suit, which results in all of the remaining Losers also lining up to give him a kiss. Ben's face resembles that of a tomato, but he's smiling. After Bev gives him his last peck, she sits down and, with another moment of admiring her dress form, speaks up.

"My turn! My plan was to make everyone something, but I'm not the best at time management," she rambles, pulling gifts out of her bag. "And I don't know how to make everything." 

Mike opens his first, revealing a jean jacket with a nice wool lining. He smiles, thanks her, and immediately puts it on over his t-shirt. 

"Oh, it's so soft! Thank you, beautiful," he says softly, gripping her hand. Bev smiles. 

"I figured it'd keep you warm for when you have to work on the farm when it's cold." Mike throws an arm around her shoulders, and presses a sweet kiss to her temple. Everyone watches the sweet moment fondly, until Bev breaks away to pass out the rest of her gifts. Ben is next, and he unwraps a pair of nice jeans, with a few flowers embroidered on the back pockets. 

"I didn't make them, obviously, but I did the embroidery. You always tear your jeans up working outside and doing your construction stuff, so I wanted to give you some nice ones," Bev explains. 

"I love them," Ben says, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. 

"Okay," she says. "Richie's next." She hands him a box that he opens eagerly, and when he pulls out a loud, brightly colored, obnoxiously tacky button up, everyone groans. 

"Bev," he says. "Beverly."

"Yes?" Bev says, sweetly. 

"I fucking love you. This is perfect. I'm gonna put it on and never take it off. I love you." 

Everyone chuckles at his enthusiasm, and Bev moves to wrap her arms around his neck. 

"It's disgusting and I hate it, so that's how I knew it'd be perfect for you," she stage whispers.

Richie pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. "You're too good to me, Marsh," he says, and plants a wet kiss on her lips before she sits back down. 

"Okay, Bill next," she says, handing him a box. Bill smiles and brushes their fingers as he takes it from her, and unwraps the gift carefully. He soon holds up a pair of brown pinstripe pants, tapered at the ankle. 

"Oh, wow, these are so nice, Bev! Thank you," he says, leaning over to kiss her forehead. 

Bev smiles, and says, oh-so sweetly, "Those pants are a threat. Get out of the jorts." 

Everyone laughs, and Bill tries to be angry, but he really likes the pants. So he figures it's fine. 

Richie makes fun of him for the jorts a little longer, but Bev cuts him off by handing Stan his gift. 

He lifts it out of the box gingerly, and everyone smiles at just how Stan it is. It's a dusty pink button up with a minimalist pattern of birds on it. 

"This is perfect, Bev, I love it," he says, and, predictably, leans over to give her a sweet kiss on the cheek. 

"Of course," she says, and sneaks a quick kiss on his lips before he sits back as well. 

"Okay," she starts again. "Now Eddie. I actually did make this one." She hands Eddie a bag, and he quickly reveals that it is a grossly oversized cream-colored sweater. 

"I love it, Bev, but you realize this is gonna be huge on me, right?" He asks, amusement in his eyes. 

Bev nods her head and pinches his cheek. "Yes I do, and this is also my gift to everyone else because you're going to look so tiny and cute in it! Everyone say ‘thank you, Bev.'" 

There is a chorus of soft ‘thank you, Bev's as Eddie slips the sweater over his head. He was right; it's absolutely drowning him, and he looks adorable. He, too, presses a timid kiss to her cheek, and whispers a small "thank you." 

Richie wraps his arm around Eddie's waist and leans in to whisper something to him. Eddie goes bright red and covers his face with his hands, smothered by the sleeves of his sweater. Stan, sitting closest to Eddie second to Richie, reaches over and pinches the small boy's side. 

"Hey, we share him now, remember?" He says to Richie, with his eyes still locked on Eddie's. 

Eddie, clearly embarrassed with everyone's eyes on him, changes the subject. "Okay, who's next?" He says. 

"I'll go," Stan says, reaching into his bag. "Mine are all dumb, but I get a free pass because I don't even celebrate this holiday and therefore should not be giving or receiving any gifts." 

He hands everyone varying sizes of boxes and bags, and they all open them at the same time. Almost everyone laughs at the gift they've received. 

"You know me too well," Richie says, holding up a coffee mug shaped like a toilet bowl. Bev smiles at her necklace, pointing out to everyone that "look! it's a peace sign!" and asking Ben to help her put it on. 

"Yours was the only one that wasn't really a joke," Stan says sheepishly. 

"Do I smell special treatment there, Staniel?" Richie says, in mock offense. Stan rolls his eyes (still smiling, of course). 

"Just drink your shit coffee, Richie," he says, causing a chorus of laughter to ring out through the clubhouse. But seeing Richie's pouting face, he rolls his eyes, and presses a kiss to his fingers and then outstretches his arm towards the other. In return, Richie kisses his own fingers, and presses them to Stan's. 

Bill laughs out loud at his gift, showing it to everyone. 

"It's a Bob Ross Funko Pop!" He says, giggling. Everyone leans in to see the details, including the little paintbrush in the figure's hand. They're interrupted by Ben, very quietly, saying "oh my god." When they turn around, they see Ben furiously swiping his hand across a sequined pillow. Eddie furrows his eyebrows. 

"What is it? Why ‘oh my god'?" He asks. Ben's face is thoroughly flushed and Stan is just laughing to himself behind his hand. 

"What? What is it?" Richie says, snatching the pillow off Ben's lap and swiping his hand the other way. As he moves the sequins, the pillow is revealed to have a close up picture of the face of Harry Styles on it. Ben's face is buried in his hands. Everyone goes feral at the picture, moving the sequins every which way so to only expose his eyes, and then his nose, and then so there's a gross looking combination of only his prominent features. 

"Ben, don't be embarrassed!" Mike says, and if it was just about anyone else, Ben would be expecting a punchline, but instead he just rolls his eyes and takes the pillow back. 

"So do you like it?" Stan asks, cheekily. Ben looks up at him. 

"Yes, but don't tell the others." 

Everyone laughs again, and Eddie opens his own gift. It's a pair of ankle socks that have a little cartoon on them and the words "carpe the fuck out of this diem." Again, this gift is passed around and examined before it makes its way back to Eddie and he thanks the boy who gave it to him with a soft kiss. 

Mike, having opened his gift several moments earlier, has said nothing. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is slack, staring at the book in his lap. 

"What'd you get, babe?" Bev says, looking over his shoulder. Then, after scanning the front for a moment, her face falls to the exact expression Mike is making. 

Bill leans in to see what all the fuss is about. 

"Intercourses: An Aphrodisiac Cookbook," he reads aloud. "Damn, Stan." 

Bev slowly reaches down to open the book, and immediately sees a picture of the food mentioned on the page laying on top of a naked body. It's not pornographic, you can't actually see anything…naughty. But you can see enough. All three of the people staring down at the book have flushed cheeks and wide eyes, and Mike shuts it with all eyes on him. He looks up at Stan, looking absolutely floored. 

"What?" Stan shrugs. "It's a cookbook." 

Mike laughs, and, with the mild tension having been released, thanks him for the gift. Richie takes it off his lap, and thumbs through the pictures, humming in interest and showing a few to a blushing Eddie. 

"Okay, enough of that, children," Ben says, taking the book out of Richie's hand and giving it back to Mike. Richie just chuckles and holds his own bag up, clearly with much effort. 

"My turn," he grunts. 

"God, Rich, is it that heavy?" Bev asks, concerned. 

"What'd you get us, books?" Stan says, teasing. Richie doesn't break eye contact with him as he pulls a wrapped gift, clearly a book, out of the bag, and hands it to Stanley. 

"Oh, books," Stan mutters, unwrapping it. 

Of course, it's a book about birds. It has pictures of different species of birds, and information on all of them. He flips through the book in awe, pointing out that there's blank pages for him to document it if he ever sees one of that species. 

"I love it, Rich. Thank you," Stan says, looking at the other boy with love. Richie just smiles and brushes it off, handing out the other ones. 

Eddie melts when he opens his. "Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, I love this book," he coos. "I've only ever read the copy from the library," he explains to the group. He presses his cheek into Richie's shoulder. "I love it," he mumbles. Richie kisses the top of his head. 

"Bill, I think this is yours," he says, handing another package out. Bill opens it and sees a beautiful work of art on the cover, with the words "100 Great Paintings" printed across it. 

"It's just like, the paintings, and then a little history about them and stuff, I don't know. I thought it was cool," Richie says, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. Bill smiles at him. 

"I love it, thank you," Bill says. Richie lets out a very small sigh of relief, almost too small to notice. 

"I'm glad," he says. "Um, Ben."

Ben takes the gift and peels back the wrapping paper, and looks up at Richie with a shocked smile. "A poetry book?" He asks, pushing the stray paper aside and opening the book. 

"It has like, poetry writing tips and stuff too. And it came with stationary," Richie says. 

Ben deadpans, "I'm gonna write you a thank you poem with this stationary." Richie laughs and just shakes his head. Ben thanks him again, and continues to leaf through the pages of poetry. In the meantime, Richie moves on and hands Mike his gift. Mike, ever the gentle giant, peels the tape from the wrapping paper without even tearing it, to reveal the book.    
“All Out: The No Longer Secret Stories of Queer Teens Throughout the Ages,” he reads out loud. 

“It’s historical stories about LGBT teenagers. I thought you’d like it cause it’s history, and also. Y’know,” Richie says, vaguely gesturing to the group around him. Mike chuckles and presses the book to his chest. 

“You were right,” he says. “Thank you.” They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before Richie coughs and looks away. Mike just smiles again, fond of the awkward boy, like they all are. 

“Last but not least, Marsh. Now a fair warning here,” he says, putting his hand up, “if you don’t like this, I  _ am _ going to cry. But don’t let that sway your reaction at all.” 

He reaches into his bag again and hands Bev her gift. She unwraps it gracefully, throwing her hand over her mouth when she realizes what it is. 

"Rich, this is a limited edition!" She says, holding up the copy of Jane Eyre. "This must have been so hard to find, I can't believe it." 

Richie just watches quietly, smiling at her reaction. "So you like it?" He asks. 

"Well, duh," she says, tearing up the slightest bit. She, once again, moves over to him and gives him a tight hug, pressing her lips to his shoulder.

“I love you,” she whispers into his ear before sitting back down. Richie whispers back “I love you, too” after it’s too late, and she can no longer hear him from the few feet away that she sits. But she knows. They all do. 

“Is it my turn?” Mike asks, looking around at the group. They all smile encouragingly at him, so he digs out the first present of his bunch. He passes it to Bev, and then one to Richie right after it. They open at the same time, and gasp simultaneously.    
Bev says “Mike, you remembered!” at the same time Richie says “How did you remember this?” 

Mike just smiles and watches them admire their gifts. Bev’s is a nice special effects makeup set, with production quality fake blood, liquid latex, and eyeshadows and things. She mentioned it offhandedly one time when they were all shopping at the mall together  _ months  _ ago. But Mike remembered. 

Richie is holding a vinyl record and t-shirt of an obscure band he listens to, one that broke up not too long ago. He was devastated. He said something along the lines of “I never even got their merch! Or a record of theirs, and I wanted one on vinyl so badly,” to a patient Mike that he was venting to. They both thank him profusely, fussing over the gifts as he hands Bill and Stan theirs. 

Stan’s is a photo printer, one that hooks up to a phone and turns your pictures into polaroids, and his face goes slack when he sees it.    
“Mike,” he breathes out. “This is perfect, how did you know?” 

“Well, you always said you wanted one of those walls filled with pictures of your friends, and I thought that’d be a good place to start,” Mike explains. Stan looks dumbfounded, and he thanks him at least three times. He pulls his phone out and snaps a picture of all the Losers sitting there, holding their gifts and smiling with flushed faces, wrapping paper and gift bags strewn about the floor. 

“I’ll print that one first,” he says. And it’s a nice moment, and they all fall just a little bit more in love. 

Bill opens his and he seems completely unsurprised that it’s the perfect gift. It’s a set of oil paints, and natural hair paint brushes, both from his favorite brand.

“Why are you the b-best?” Bill asks. His stutter is much less noticeable these days, but it still comes out when he gets too emotional. Mike’s heart warms at the sound of it, right now. 

“You said you never could find that brand,” Mike says, shrugging, as if that’s an answer to Bill’s question. 

(It almost is, in a way. But Mike wouldn’t really understand that if Bill told him.)

“And for Ben,” Mike moves on, handing Ben a small, unwrapped box. Ben opens it to find a watch, made of a dark wood for the face and a black leather strap.    
“Wow, this is beautiful, Mike,” Ben says, taking it out of the box. 

“Look on the back,” Mike says. 

Ben turns it over and tears fill his eyes within seconds. 

“What? What’s it say?” Bev asks. Ben just hands the watch to her and everyone sees her eyes begin to water as well. She covers her mouth and passes it on, the sweet momento making it’s round across the group until everyone is sniffling and giggling to themselves over how silly they’re all being. 

“That’s fucking gay,” Richie says, through tears. 

When it returns back to Ben, he wipes his tears and laughs. 

“I told myself I wasn’t gonna cry,” he says. “But it’s perfect.” 

**B.M.**

**E.K.**

**R.T.**

**M.H.**

**S.U.**

**B.D.**

“I’m so glad you like it,” Mike says, also a bit choked up. “You said you needed a new watch,” he laughs. 

They all collect themselves and wipe the stray tears as Ben puts the watch on his wrist. 

“Okay,” Mike shakes his head so to rejuvenate himself, and moves on. “One more from me; Eddie.” 

Eddie’s box is quite big, and he eyes it suspiciously as Mike hands it to him. He opens it, and before he even realizes what it is, Mike is explaining himself. 

“The last time your mom grounded you, you told me afterwards that the hardest part was feeling so separated from all of us. So, it’s just a lamp, but I have another one at home, and every time you touch it, mine will light up, and vice versa. I’ll pass it around to these guys, too, so even when we’re not allowed to see you, all you have to do is touch the lamp and whoever has it will touch theirs too, and then maybe you won’t feel so alone.” 

Eddie stares at him, for a moment. Long enough that Mike starts to get nervous, but then Eddie puts the box down, and walks over to where Mike is seated, and climbs onto his lap, wrapping him in a hug. Mike smiles faintly and wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist, squeezing as tightly as he can. 

“I love you,” Eddie says into Mike’s shoulder, the sound muffled. “I’m so fucking in love with you.” 

“I love you too, baby,” Mike says. He uses the most pet names out of all the Losers, and it never fails to make them all smile. 

Eddie stands back up again, and wipes a few stray tears from his face. 

“If you couldn’t tell, I like it a lot,” he says, sitting back down in the hammock. Mike gives him a watery smile. 

“I’m glad.” 

Bill lets out a contented sigh. “Okay, I guess it’s me.”

Everyone turns their attention to him as he stands up and motions them to follow. The group passes confused looks amongst one another, but do as he says anyway. Bill walks over to the other side of the clubhouse, where a sheet is hanging on the wall. 

“I didn’t get anyone individual gifts, but I m-made something for all of us,” he says. 

He lifts the sheet away from the wall and pulls it down, revealing a large canvas painting. Of all of them. 

Everyone lets out awestruck breaths at virtually the same time, and they all step closer, huddling together to get a better look. 

It’s all seven of them, sitting draped across one another on the ground at the edge of the quarry, and it is  _ beautiful.  _ They’re all holding hands, or touching, or gazing into each other’s eyes and they all just look so in love and it’s perfect. It’s nothing short of perfect. 

Bev grabs Bill’s hand and pulls him into the group to admire his work. Life imitates art, in a way, since they’re all wrapped around each other and holding hands like a lifeline as they start to choke up, again. 

No one says anything for a really long time. They all just stand there, heads on shoulders and arms wrapped around waists and eyes filled with tears, admiring the work of art in front of them. All of them, at some point, lean in to press a kiss somewhere on Bill’s body; his temple, his cheek, his shoulder. Bill doesn’t even know who’s hands he’s holding anymore, but he squeezes them anyway. 

“Merry Christmas, guys,” he says, soft as a feather. 

A string of “Merry Christmas” rings out behind him, and he smiles. 

“We look so in love,” Stan says.

“We are,” Ben responds, grabbing Stan’s hand and holding it to his chest. Stan nods. 

Because, yeah. They are. 


End file.
